Wild Bear, Chapter 3: Miora
by An Asteroid's Belt
Summary: Tjorborn was just a regular caravan guard, with a tragic past. Having lost her mother, and having a strict father hasn't always been easy on him. But now he find out he's DragonBorn? Huh. Join Tjorborn, Ja'liir, Miora, Floria, Gorlock and Norin on a quest to defeat Alduin, and save Nirn.


"Damn night-mares…" Tjorborn said, rubbing his eyes. It was about twelve o'clock, but Tjorborn was almost starving. All he had was a quarter of a sweet roll, and half a Venison chop. His stomach began to rumble, he was restless for food.

He got up from his wooden chair, and began the search around the hut for food. He began to search throw the drawers very swiftly and quietly so he didn't wake Ja'liir. God only knows what Jal'liir is like when she's woken up from her sleep.

Tjorborn almost gave up on his restless search for food, but, in the last drawer, he found cheese wheel with one slice taken out of it. But, the cheese was not mouldy, and cheese gets mouldy very quickly. So, Tjorborn instantly knew that this hut wasn't abandoned.

He quickly ate down the cheese wheel, crumbs flying on to the floor. After he had finished the cheese wheel, he heard some leaves move, then looked out from the window to see a bush moving.

He quickly grabbed his sword, and went out-side to approach the bush. "Hello? Anyone there?" Tjorborn asked his sword in his right hand, ready for anything. As he got closer, the bush kept moving and moving. He eventually was half a foot away from the bush, and struck at it with his sword.

The bush stopped rustling, and a large bunny hopped out, Tjorborn's sword slash obviously didn't touch the rabbit. He let out a sigh of relief, and watched the bunny run away, even though he still had an urge to cook it. He turned back to the hut, only to realise a bow and arrow pointed directly at his nose from a small, female Wood Elf near the entrance of the hut.

Tjorborn dropped his sword, and put his hands behind his head. "What have you done to my hut? What type of pyromancer does this to a hut?" The Wood Elf inquired, her aim still directly pointed at Tjorborn's nose.

"Ma'am, you won't believe this, but a dragon did this. Not us." Tjorborn answered. "Us? Who else is here!" Tjorborn did not answer, and cursed under his breath, realising he had revealed that Ja'liir was there too. "No, I'm by myself. No one else, just me." Tjorborn answered, obviously lying and putting on a fake smile.

"Say here. Res, on him." The Wood Elf sternly said, a vicious dog coming from another bush, standing and growling next to Tjorborn. The Wood Elf walked inside, searching the two rooms. Rattling could be heard, as drawers were being searched as well.

"Good dog?" Tjorborn said to the dog, reaching his hand out to pet the animal. The dog snapped at Tjorborn's hand, hanging on to it and pulling him down. The dog was at least six feet on its hinds, so it easily overpowered Tjorborn. The dog held him down, by the neck to be exact.

Screaming could be heard from the hut, the dog releasing Tjorborn, and running inside. Tjorborn gasped for breath, and got up slowly, hearing fighting in the hut. He grabbed his sword, and marched into the hut, seeing Ja'liir and the Wood Elf fighting, dagger against bow.

Tjorborn interfered the fight, splitting them up. "Listen! Stop it! This fighting is useless!" Tjorborn shouted, demanding they didn't fight. "That bitch attacked me. An while I was asleep! What honor does this Elvish idiot have!" Ja'liir said, sternly, her dual daggers ready to fight once more.

"Oh, so sleeping in someone's else's house is honor!? Maybe, you should just go! You and your Nord sleeping buddy." Tjorborn was angered by this, and spoke up. "Ok, now that's just not right. Let us explain, at least. You can't just think were criminals. I'm second in command of Sir Gerald of Black Marsh's leading defense. Me, and Ja'liir here mean no harm.

"No harm, huh? Well, I don't want to fight again. Som tell me why you're here, what happened to my house, and I may lrt you two go free." The Wood Elf said. 'Oh, and I'm Moira." Moira stated. "Ok, thank you Moira. Me and Ja'liir here have a long story, and it goes like this. I was guarding a caravan with Sir Gerald in it, with my two friends Ferin and Jorer. We went next to that shrine, to rest and eat, but, I woke up and spotted Ja'liir stealing from the caravan. Next thing's next, she's threatening to kill Ferin and Jorer-" Tjorborn was interrupted by Ja'liir. "Excuse me, I'm just trying to make some decent coin. So I'm not the bad guy." Ja'liir stated, her arms now crossed.

"Anyway, next thing's next, a bloody dragon showed up and killed Ferin and Jorer. We barely made it out of that damn thing's clutches, and found this hut. The front was the work of that dragon. Now, does that explain everything?" Tjorborn took a breath, after saying all of that.

"Hm. I guess it does. Are you sure your friends are dead?" Miora asked, thinking hardly. "Well, Jorer was engulfed by flames, and Ferin was slammed into a tree. There's no way he could've survived…" Tjorborn said, regretfully. "I'm experienced in medicine. I could help Ferin. Where is he?" Miora inquired.

"Follow me." Tjorborn said, leading the group. They all arrived at the bloodied tree that Ferin hit, but Ferin was nowhere to be seen. All there was, was a blood trail leading to some large rocks. The group naturally followed the blood marks, to see Ferin lying on the floor, lifeless, and dead.

"Ferin…" Tjorborn said, looking away. "Damnit. If he was alive, I may have been able to help him…" Miora stated, looking down. "We must get to WindHelm. If anyone knows how to stop a dragon, it's Ulfirc." Ja'liir exclaimed, waiting for the group to stop grieving, and start moving.

"That's a good idea. Now, to WindHelm." Tjorborn said, leading the group, and walking up a large hill, to the path to WindHelm.


End file.
